Tumbleweed

You
Staple of youth;  
summer nights  
and paths less traveled  
but winding  
still  
Have not changed  
Your gravel still rests  
Chalky and silent  
- Treacherous to the wheals  
of a bicycle  
unfamiliar to your charms  
Your vacancies  
Still vacant  
Your gates  
Still high enough to be mistaken  
a wall  
One capable of touching  
the underbellies of clouds  
(The too few passing through  
-But never stationary)  
To the strays born just outside your tracks  
-To Me  
 
But upon second glance  
A shift in the pavement reveals change  
For there is growth  
Cracks in stone expose earth  
Where wildflowers have taken root  
Reaching for the sky;  
Claiming life;  
Existence;  
Visibility  
 
Here  
A place where nothing  
That is not planned  
(Seemingly) ever happens  
Exists    
Still    
Despite neighboring negligence  
Offering hope  
To the seeds yet to come  
And  
Reminding the seasoned greenery  
Where they stem from